A Medical Comment
by The-Archaic-One
Summary: Jim hadn't really expected his day to end up like this....
1. Diagnosis

Jim had always found it incredibly saddening that the primary designers of the_ Enterprise_ had neglected to build a rotational axis for the captain's chair. In times of boredom he was pretty sure it would have helped starve off the approaching insanity which he slowly felt closing in on him. Spinning in circles, despite making one rather nauseas was incredibly relaxing for some people. For Jim though, it would have simply served as a one road trip to fun and awesomeness. It couldn't be said that he hadn't tried to get himself undeniably dizzy. After nearly tipping the uncomfortable chair of its bearings from trying to move it sidewards did make him slightly apprehensive of repeating such an actionthough- for a fifth time. The mixed variety of expressions from the bridge, ranging from confusion from the talented young Chekov to the infamous raised eyebrow of his first officer was also another good reason to do a raincheck on the occupation. Falling off from a chair that was bolted to the floor in the middle of an exceptionally quiet room didn't really help his image as an able and vigilant captain. Seriously though, sitting around when nothing was happening wasn't exactly the highlight of his life. He nearly coupled it in with watching a newly painted wall dry or grass growing.

Today, however, Jim was preoccupied. Strangely enough it wasn't because a very important power coupling had decided to blow or a fuselage drop off from something it shouldn't be dropping off from. It wasn't due to one of those annoying _anomalies, _like a black holethat Spock delighted in decreeing they were heading toward. Nor was it because of any hostile Romulan's who had decided to use a freaking large drill to bore a hole into some peaceful planet, a scenario which didn't at _all_ sound familiar to Jim. The preoccupation didn't even have anything to do with the fact that his communications officer had just walked past wearing a uniform which was slowly creeping higher and higher up her legs. _Strange._

Instead, it was a slight gnawing pain which was coming from Jim's stomach, an ache which had started just after breakfast. Notorious for being an exceptionally fast eater, among other things, he had simply put it down to indigestion. He had lost count of the many times Bones had whisked him off to the sickbay when such a pain occurred, and scanned him until he was satisfied he hadn't concocted a nasty virus, been poisoned, or was going to die sometime in the near future. Jim had eventually tired of telling him that the problem was simply just the insanely busy schedule of a captain and just allowed himself to be shepherded along for the course of the inspection. The risk of getting Bones court marshalled for hitting a Captain lessened if he just cooperated, he decided.

Today though, the current pain had seemed to have exceeded the usual time limit of indigestion.

"Captain?" a quiet, neutral voice asked and Jim started. He picked up on the slight impatience behind the words, realising that it was probably the second time that Spock had been trying to say something to him. He looked up from frowning intently at a PADD on science updates he was supposed to be reading, yet wasn't, and turned in the direction of his first officer. "Yes, Mr Spock?"

Spock tilted his head slightly and his eyes glanced toward the PADD before back to Jim's face. "I was merely wondering at what was invoking your current idiom," he asked, moving his hands to clasp them behind his back. Jim stared at him confused, his eyebrows raised- and kept staring, trying in vain to make his brain comprehend the words that Spock had just said. Man, he felt completely out of it. He had that bubble feeling, where everything got blurry and kind of out of focus the further away it got from you. It was the wackiest of feelings. Sort of like when you're half drunk, and you're balancing on that precipice to nearly falling of the chair you had quickly sat down on too avoid falling over and looking like a complete idiot in front of that incredibly good looking girl you had instantly spotted when you had walked into the bar. _This scenario was starting to vaguely sound like his eighteenth birthday_, Jim thought and he inwardly grinned. Now _that_ had been an awesome night. Dragging Bones along, despite the fact that he had to study for a _human_ _anatomy_ test which for some insane reason had him worried about, had been the best idea he'd had. That man was one funny drunk and regardless of staying out until five in the morning and waking up with a major hangover two hours later, he had still aced that particular examination.

Someone on the bridge coughed and he shook his head, once again pulling himself out of his thoughts as he noticed that Spock continued to patiently wait for his reply. More than likely this feeling had significantly more to do with the pain in his left side rather than intoxication however. It was just a tad bit too early to be drinking just yet. He sighed internally. God, he felt like going back to bed and sleeping, curling up into a ball and just relishing the warmth produced by the thermostat. He sighed again, and then focused onto the distinctly alien features in front of him. He opened his mouth and then promptly closed it again as he realised that he didn't have a clue of what Spock's question had been. He blinked as he looked up at his friend, and then stopped.

Jim hadn't realised how easy it was to become entranced within the unusually dark eyes of his first officer, as sappy as that sounded. They looked exactly like the straight black coffee he had each morning to chase away the remains of sleep. Pools of darkness. Pools of coffee. Mmm...coffee. Spock really did have nice eyes though. Really...

"...really cool eyes" Jim murmured without thinking and the eyebrows of the eyes that Jim was currently enamoured with lowered while the eyes in question narrowed slightly.

"...Captain?..."

His own eyes widened as his sluggish brain finally decided to wake up and he mentally slapped himself, trying to rearrange his features so that he looked less like he was gawking at the guy and more like he was stating a perfectly logical fact. Spock continued to look at him, head slightly tilted.

Jim swallowed. "It's nothing Spock, really, nothing. You know me. Always well you know...nothing at all...never mean anything really..." he rambled off dejectedly, not having a clue what he was saying. If anything the expression on Spock's face became even more assessing and Jim breathed out in admission and closed his eyes. He shook his head, letting it fall into his left hand, looking down at his chairs armrest. _Anything_ to get away from the inscrutable eyes that were ironically now scrutinising him for signs of illness. He smiled despite his current predicament. He was surprised no one else had realised just how insane he was and hadn't locked him up yet. So much for an orderly captain. Next he'll be noticing how nice Uhura's hair is or what lovely earrings Chapel wears or things equally as absurd.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked up in surprise. Blue fabric instantly swamped his view as he stared straight into Spock's science uniform. Jim moved his eyes upwards, bypassing the Starfleet insignia, and shoulders, tilting his head until he was once again looking into those jet stone eyes. Jim wouldn't have been surprised to find that his eyes had widened once again at Spock's abnormal sign of concern. 99.9% of the time Spock was a no contact zone. Maybe his first officer was being particularly less worried about such statistics this morning though. Sometimes he actually did do that, though it was usually after some life threatening operation or mid-space intergalactic war- but who knows.

"Captain, are you ill?" Spock asked, his hand retracting and falling instead to his side.

Jim waved his hand insignificantly. "I'm great thanks...absolutely peachy," he assured, hopelessly. A single eyebrow went up and he smiled uncertainly for lack of nothing else to do, trying to diffuse the questioning look he was receiving. A sharp pain radiated through his stomach, and his smile faltered, a grimace replacing it before Jim could rearrange his features. His hand twitched involuntarily toward the area of the pain, as he stopped himself from grabbing his stomach.

The look Spock was giving him became intense and the tilted eyebrows lowered even more as he seemed to pick up on the nearly invisible movement. You know, now that he noticed them, Spock's eyebrows were also incredibly....-he stopped. _Really _not going to go there_._

He could already see Spock's brain whirling away and another question already forming on his lips. Before he said anything however he stopped, his eyes quickly flicking around, finally sensing the attention of the other crew members who had been watching the entire scene from the beginning. He once again moved closer, leaning forward.

"Jim...", he began.

"Really Spock, I'm fine..." Jim said cutting him off. "I'm just a little tired. That's all. I had tones of reports to write up last night and didn't crash until quite late."

It was both the truth and a lie at the same time. He _had_ had reports to do but they weren't the reason he had been up until 1am in the morning.

One thing Jim hardly ever told people was that he was a sucker for a good book. There was something appealing about losing himself into a different world; something relaxing. Or distracting. Either way, Spock seemed to relent a little at his attempt at logic and stood up straight once again.

"In that case, am I correct in determining that something is not satisfactory with the science report?"

Jim stopped confused, for what seemed like the third time that morning. He should probably just go around with the expression permanently etched into his face whenever the guy was around. If anyone ever tried to tell him that Vulcan's were predictable he was pretty certain he would have a laughing fit at the exact same time. Just trying to understand the sudden turn in the conversation his first officer was now presenting to him and the basis behind such a topic would probably have astrophysicists squirming in their seats.

"What...?" he asked, somehow portraying all his confusion in one word and hoping it wasn't too abrupt.

Spock simply dropped his eyes and looked intently at Jim's hands. Jim himself followed the moving line of sight until...

Ah, right.

Jim looked at the device which somehow he still kept clasped in his hand while pulling himself back to five minutes ago. Frowning intently, nearly scowling, at a PADD on science updates just written up and then handed to him by his first officer, who also happened to be his _science officer_, probably didn't exactly sell the right impression to a man who prided himself on consistent high levels of work. Well, at least Jim could put that particular worry to rest.

"_Nah_, Spock, it's great," Jim reassured him, patting the blue clad arm that was resting beside his chair and feeling like an adult who was reassuring a child that it was ok that they got a B+ on a test. "Absolutely wonderful and unbelievably awesome. No one could do a better job," he said, laying it on thick just for the sake of it. "It was the perfect thing to wake me up this morning. I can't thank you enough."

Spock looked slightly less worried and slightly more bemused as Jim handed back the PADD and followed it through with two thumbs up and a joking smile. "I'm glad that you are finally coming to enjoy the more documented side of your position, captain, despite your previous aversion to paperwork," he replied. "I shall be sure to provide you with many more opportunities, such as this, to increase your new found enjoyment."

Jim chuckled and there was a scattering of laughs from the crew as they also realised the significance behind Spock's words. The pointy-eared bastard was getting incredibly quick at those come backs lately. With his Vulcan brain he would be outstripping Jim in less than a week he guessed. He may have to actually start preparing his comebacks the day before if he was going to have much of a chance to keep up with him. He smiled.

It was interesting how normal being friends with Spock was. It wasn't even a friendship which was forced for the smooth running of the _Enterprise _either. It was _real_ and it was nice. It was nice in the sense that each day they wouldn't be at each other's throats constantly about every decision that was made on the bridge.

No one onboard the ship could say that it occurred easily though, unless they were kidding themselves.

Or living constantly in some form of happy land.

For about two weeks after gaining his captaincy, tension could be seen all around the ship despite Jim quite happily welcoming his current first officer onto the bridge. Funnily enough though he found that it was only when they were actually doing their jobs that the conflicts seemed to arise. They both had such different and strong styles of performing their jobs that the disagreements were almost premeditated by some stupid universal force. Their completely opposite characters probably didn't help either, Jim guessed. Despite this though, the guy was actually pretty cool as well relatively easy to talk to.

_Once you actually figured out what he was saying of course, _he thought. He had to have Spock constantly rephrase his sentences and wording until they were less convoluted and more understandable when they first began working together. Lately, however, he had noticed that he was having to do that less and less as he somehow tuned into the intent and meaning behind the words whenever he was talking to him. Like tuning into a radio station. Spock Station. It was quite an educational experience really and he actually felt incredibly happy and kind of...well...bubbly that the animosity had stopped.....

....bubbly?!....what the hell?

A searing pain rippled through Jim's body, jolting him unpleasantly to the present for the third successive time that day and shedding all previous thoughts from his mind. He gasped, his body convulsing around the painful area, grabbing hold and tightly squeezing the chairs armrest to stop himself from crying out.

An armrest which felt peculiarly like an arm.

Jims head came up and his eyes instantly met with dark, curious and slightly worried ones in return. Spock looked down and Jim followed his line of sight noticing that it was in fact the Vulcan's arm he was possible constricting the life out of. The arm which was attached to the hand that he had placed on his shoulder beforehand. His eyes widened as he quickly let go of his first officer and instead grabbed what he had intended to in the first place- the armrest- as another wave of pain sliced him open.

Or that is what it felt like.

"Captain?"

Spock's gaze had once again increased in the worried factor. Somehow though he was still surveying Jim as if he were some interesting experiment. Jim rolled his eyes. Sometimes the man took his work _too_ seriously. His gaze though, wasn't the only one on him it seemed. Many of the crew had turned from their stations to see what was occurring to their infamous captain. Chekov and Sulu had spun around on their chairs, ones which _did_ actually have rotational axels and Uhura had even risen from her seat. Amazingly though, they were all just standing there. Talk about emergency deficient. He could be dying for all they knew. Whether or not he was though it would still be nice if whatever was doing this to stop so he could get back to work and Spock could stop looking at him like _that _which was actually starting to freak him out because it made him feel like he had caught some incurable disease.

Maybe it was time to call in the man of the hour.

Another ripple washed through him, making his back slightly arch.

_Definitely_ time to call in his other good friend- one he should probably have on speed dial.

Through the waves of pain which seemed to be getting more and more consistent and painful as the seconds ticked by, Jim was able to finally form a coherent sentence. "Bones" he gasped, waving his free hand around as if the man in question would suddenly appear by magic. "Get Bones," he repeated closing his eyes against the pain.

That was probably the point at which the unresponsive crew realised that no, he was not faking it and no, this wasn't some bloody rehearsal for a movie. Jeez, talk about clueless. That he _was_ actually asking for Bones was probably the clincher, he thought. Since half the time Jim usually ran away from the madman with hypo's he called his CMO, it was probably shocking that now he actually _wanted_ him. Spock, who had moved closer to Jim and was currently holding his shoulder once again, signalled to Uhura, who in turn moved to the intercom and quickly patched herself through to the sickbay.

"Sickbay here," came a soft female voice from through the metal grill. Chapel.

"Hey Chapel, Uhura here," his communications officer replied. "It's the captain."

"What's-" Chapel continued, but before she could finish a scuffle was heard from the opposite side. Soft protests came through mixed with gruff and resistant 'sorry's'. The intercom crackled and then another voice came through.

"What did he do this time? Jim, I swear, if it's some utterly stupid and completely unnecessary-"

Bones.

Jim inwardly smiled and it was at that point that he lost track of the verbal abuse which Bones was throwing his way and time in general. He decided to screw sitting up. Man, he didn't even like the bloody uncomfortable, non- rotational chair anyway. Always making a complete idiot out of him and giving him cramps and pins and needles.

Relinquishing his ability to sit, he promptly slid sideways out of the chair as the next wave of aching knives came through. He didn't really have much choice in the matter as the amount of pain was making him less in control of his movements, but it was better to go out with as much dignity as possible. He landed hard on the grill with a grunt of pain, though much more lighter than if Spock, with his super Vulcan reflexes, hadn't caught him before he full on hit the floor.

Saved by da' Spock.

Dignity could be screwed also it seemed.

He could hear Uhura talking but couldn't make out the words. The pain inside his stomach had suddenly decided to perform a back flip and had moved below his stomach. It was now attacking his left side. Nausea rolled through him, replacing the pain with a sickening feeling in his stomach. He gripped onto the bottom of Spock's shirt, groaning. He fought the nausea off for all he was worth. There was no way in_ hell_ that he was going to be sick all over his first officer. The poor guy was probably already mentally scarred as it was. Currently Jim was positioned with his head in his hands and half his body lying on top of him. It was a perfect chick-flick romantic dying-lover scene. He snorted and was actually able to laugh as the pain let up for the moment, opening his eyes in time to see Spock look down at him curiously.

"I could be dying Spock" he said as dramatically as he could. One of Spock's eyebrows rose, obviously hearing the theatrics in his voice. Yep, very _movieish._

"I highly doubt that Captain."

"Still, anything's possible."

"Since you have no standing in any medical profession it would be advisable to wait for the Doctor to arrive before making any assumptions."

Jim actually rolled his eyes this time. Trust Spock to not play along. Either way, where the hell was Bones? He thought that he'd be running to the bridge as quickly as he could but obviously, despite being a captain, he just wasn't very important. Though, it was quite a way to the bridge from the sickbay, Jim thought, which could also be a reasonable factor in his lateness.

"You're going to have to be all emotional and shit" Jim said and his first officer once again looked down at him eyebrow raised.

"You are not going to die Jim." he said and Jim could tell he was slightly exasperated or annoyed from the change of _'captain'_ to _'Jim'_.

"But, if I do-"

"You will not"

"Yes, but-"

"No" and there was a sense of finality in Spock's voice.

Jim stopped, eyes widened and eyebrows raised as he stared at his first officer, who continued to look down blandly at him. _It might be annoying, true, and completely unnecessary, however..._

"Yes" he started

Spock breathed out air through his nose which he apparently had been holding and retaliated. "No"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No"

"Yes"

Spock's eyes widened marginally as he quickly realised that a half incapacitated man had just beaten him in the challenge of the yes and no's. Jim did as much of a victory dance as he could while lying on the ground, something which consisted of a half flopping movement with his hands and a brief exclamation of '_ha_!'. He hadn't even had to do it for a long time. _Glorious victory_. He grinned.

"Right, so now that we agree I'm dying, I've decided that you are going to have to actually cry" Jim said, straight faced. "It will be hard, I know. However if we both work together I think we'll get through it just fine." Snorts of laughter above the two of them followed this remark. Obviously the crew were enjoying the show.

"I do believe we can save the emotional side effect of tears for Doctor McCoy when he gets here." Spock replied, his newly placed neutral expression being undermined by the slight upwards twitch of his lips.

Jim scoffed. "Sure, he's taking so long I can guarantee that I will be dead and in the nearest coffin by the time he actually gets here."

"I heard that Jim"

Jeez, the universe was a bitch.

The gruff voice from the intercom had finally made its way to the bridge, conveniently bringing with it the actual body of Leonard McCoy and hopefully his bag of magic tricks which would make whatever was hurting Jim lay down and get steam rolled.

"Took your time", Jim grumbled under his breath, looking up at the middle aged man who was now standing above both him and Spock and looking incredibly confused.

"Well this looks like fun."

"I believe I should not be amazed that I once again find myself disagreeing with your opinion Doctor."

"Oh that hurt, Spock."

Spock glanced down at him and gave a slight shrug as Bones supplied his own glare at the proper candidate. "Your weight has stopped the necessary blood flow to my legs, hence little oxygen has been supplied to such regions and a cramping effect began six minutes following your collapse. It is a rather uncomfortable feeling. I believe that humans such as yourself refer to it as 'pins and needles.'"

Bones crouched down next to Jim, muttering something about _'moving'_ while taking a tricorder out of his bag and scanning him. He wriggled slightly as a tingling sensation followed its presence. Bones looked up and gave Jim a questioning look.

"What exactly is wrong Jim?" he asked, moving the tricorder down over his chest.

Jim opened his mouth to reply, blinked and then frowned. That was a good question actually. It had been the left side of his stomach before though that seemed to have gone. As well the momentary feeling of nausea he had experienced. Strange. Maybe it had just been indigestion after all. A_ really_ bad case of it. Frowning further, he went to say as much to Bones but the tricorder beat him to the punch. The little machine which was currently hovering over his lower left abdomen, was emitting a low beeping sound and Bones himself was now frowning and rubbing his chin, while reading whatever had appeared on the screen.

"...hmm...could be...might not...although...never certain..." he mumbled to himself and Jim suppressed the urge to over exaggerate the sigh which made its way from him. So much for definite examinations and results.

All of a sudden and quicker than Jim thought he could ever move, the doctor had his hands positioned on Jim's stomach. Before he could ask him exactly what the hell he was doing, Bones had pressed down.

Hard.

Jim's entire body convulsed as a dormant pain flared up and raced through his body, his chest and legs coming up from the floor to curl around his stomach in a pointless attempt to protect him from whatever was causing him pain. Aches surged through his lower back, making him shudder. Jeez, even his shoulders and neck hurt now.

"Son of a bitch, Bones!" he gasped, as nausea assaulted him, making him close his eyes and fall back to the more stable ground. Two overly warm hands caught him however and instead lowered him slowly back to his previous position. "I thought doctors were supposed to help people not bloody well kill them!"

"Stop complaining" was all the response Jim got before the Doctor walked over to the intercom and patched through to the sickbay, Chapel answered.

"Chapel, I need you to set up the operation table. We're going to be taking out an appendix." Bones said, glancing back at Jim, who still remained curled on the floor.

"We're also going to need a stretcher brought to the bridge."

Silence followed this statement.

"Chapel?"

"Sir, our stretches were ruined during one of the ships last missions remember," the nurse reminded Bones. "We haven't yet docked at a sufficient location to replace them."

The doctor swore. Yeah, he remembered all right. Jim and his bloody stupid plans. Plans that would never work unless your name was _specifically_ James T. Kirk. You had to have a certain amount of insanity to pull off the stunts he did. Insanity specially ordered, packaged and delivered by the captain himself.

"Ok then, forget that idea. Just get the bed ready."

A positive assertion followed his words and Bones shut down the link. He walked back over to where Jim lay on the ground. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow as the pain slowly leached through his entire back and into his legs. He looked at his friend speculatively.

"Trust you Jim to have a bad case of appendicitis" he said shaking his head and moving to his bag. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, okay, and when that starts working we're going to move you to the sickbay," Bones said selecting an intimidating hypo from one of the side pockets of the med kit, taking aim and injecting what to Jim felt like an elephant tranquiliser into the side of his neck.

He looked up at his friend, neck stinging. "I'm dying aren't I?" he asked, already beginning to feel incredibly woozy. These 23rd century medicines were amazing. He heard a sigh from above him as he said this. Ah, that's right, Spock. He had forgotten he was there. The pain seemed to be receding, replaced however by a foggy cloud which was slowly settling inside his head, making legible thought incredibly hard to produce.

"Would you prefer it if I said you were?"

Bones rolled his eyes as he saw Jim considered this. "Not really. But you see, Spock and I have this wager about whether or not I will, that is to say, fall of the perch, kick the bucket, go towards the light....," he rambled on. Bones looked at Spock, aghast.

"Really Spock," he asked. "Gambling? And here I thought you did not delve into such atrocities, the innocent and pure being that you are."

"There are many days Doctor, that I wonder what it is that makes my entire person constantly disagree with you," Spock said, an eyebrow raised. "I've finally decided that I needn't bother" the Vulcan continued, "as it is _you_ that is the source of the problem, not me."

Bone' eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to reply. Jim however decided to beat him to the punch with more of his very insightful but completely mad ramblings.

"..exit my bodily encasement, be embraced by the dark, be relieved of bodily functions.. "

Both Doctor and Vulcan seemed to momentarily forget their current feud, and looked down in a mixture of bemusement and surprise at their induced captain who continued to move between a weird subconscious world and reality.

"I must say that the Captain's ability to keep producing words containing more than three letters and more than one syllable, half drugged, is quite amazing," Spock remarked, tilting his head to the side. "I may even go so far as commending him on the ability after the current situation has passed."

Bones grinned smugly. "You see, I've always argued that drinking could be an educational experience. Of course I never say _how_ it could be, but as you can see, years of drinking while still holding legible conversations with women have come in handy for Jim."

"As I can see no exceptionally good result that has transpired despite his mundane ability to talk normally, I would not make that same assumption." Spock replied, the very picture of neutrality despite the raised eyebrows.

"Jeez Spock, let's just agree to disagree alright?" Bones said, throwing his hands in the air and breathing out a sigh.

"That would be contradictory to what we are constantly trying to achieve Doctor. In our time known to one another we have seemed to come to a mutual agreement that we must always rebut each other in one way or another."

The older man stopped and looked at the stoic Vulcan, eyebrows lowering in confusion. He drew in a breath, opened his mouth and then continued to shut it, releasing the collected air through his nose instead. He tried again with more success.

"Spock..." he asked, drawing out the word as the Vulcan himself started to look midly confused. "Did that sentence really make any sense to you at all?" Bones asked, scratching his head. "Cause' I'm pretty sure that when you break it down, you just said that we have agreed on something while also saying that we never do."

The first officer in question blinked.

Twice.

"I believe it is about time to move the Captain, Doctor" he answered, "If my timing of the pain serum is correct."

Bones just grinned wickedly.

The current idea of moving somehow registered within Jim's head and he stopped his verbal stream of consciousness and blinked up at the two men. He didn't really feel like getting up. Spock was particularly warm and surprisingly comfortable. He didn't move either so he was just like a strangely positioned chair. It was even better than his normal bloody non-rotational, hard, uncomfortable, cramp and pins and needles giving, captain's chair. Maybe he should tell Spock, though the small un-drugged part of Jim was telling him that it was a bad idea. He mused around the thought.

Ah, what the hell. He was never one to listen to reason. Unless of course it was Spock who was doing the reasoning accompanied by pages upon pages of logical arguments explaining why whatever he was doing would end badly.

And then only _sometimes_.

"Have you ever considered a career as a chair Spock?" he asked groggily. "Cause I could defiantly give you a great reference as being incredibly comfortable," he mumbled. "You know what?" he asked, another thought suddenly occurring to him. "You can take over the job from my chair! It's time it retired," he said while nodding his head, strangely happy with incoherent Jim's logic.

Silence met this last statement, one of either extremely terrified horror or completely unexpected surprise.

"I hope to god that was the drug talking Jim." he heard Bones say.

Interesting. Maybe Spock didn't like being referred to as a chair. Jim hoped he hadn't offended him in anyway. He should say something else, you know, to make him feel better. A compliment.

Hmm....

Ah...

"...did you know you have really awesome eyes Spock.?...." he slurred, mind numbed.

A few sniggers could be heard from the bridge and Jim saw the eyes in question close.

"..and so it gets worse everybody.." the doctors voice said theatrically, holding his arms wide.

"Can I assume the medicine is efficiently working Doctor?" Spock asked, opening his eyes which looked almost pleadingly up at Bones.

"...they look like that black coffee that I have in the morning....I really like that coffee. Really like it. Did you know that Spock?"

Bones lent over as the entire bridge erupted into peals of laughter. There seemed also to be a few thumps on the floor as if people were even falling of their chairs.

"Captain, may I propose that you cease in your attempt to speak?" Spock suggested, looking down at him.

A hurt expression made its way across Jims face. "You know, I just _love_ how you have such a diplomatic way of telling me to shut up Spock. "It's so wayward but somehow incredibly effective at the same time." He looked up at his first officer. "I thought you liked me Spock..?"

"It was not my intention to-

Bones crossed his arms. "Oh give it up man." he cut of Spock and then looked at Jim. "Yes, you idiot, he's telling you to shut up because once again you are making yourself look ridiculous."

Jim glared up at the Doctor who had become slightly out of focused. "Well that's not my fault, is it?" he said. "You're the one who gave me whatever it is you jabbed me with."

"On that note Doctor I believe that whatever it was should be effectively working" Spock said and looked intently down at Jim. "His previous statements are also significant enough evidence that-"

"...he's gone completely insane, Sir?" said voice radiating from above and to the left of Jims head.

A black eyebrow rose. "Though not what I had in mind, such a phrase does cover quite a few aspects of my primary idea Lieutenant Sulu", Spock replied. "If not slightly excessive in its suggestion."

Bones past a glance over his best friend. "Nah, that's just him. Idiotic and smart at the same time. It must be gift..." he said, shaking his head. He then snorted. "...or a curse. Either way, yeah, we can move him to the sickbay now."

A silence followed his confirmation. Both men looked down at Jim's dead weight, both running different scenarios through their heads. Spock spoke first to Jim's relief.

"Perhaps if I were to carry him?"

Jim's eyes widened at this and the relief was quickly stamped out by consternation. _No way_ was Spock going to be carrying him around anywhere. He would walk and that was final. He was the captain damnit!

He said as well himself.

"Walk Jim?" Bones said, emphatically. "You can't even stand for God's sake. You probably couldn't even crawl there if you wanted to."

"Bones, Spock isn't some bloody pack horse, you do realise that right?" he asked moving to sit up.

"Oh what, and he can be a chair instead Jim?" the doctor replied cynically. "Oh yeah, that's a real upgrade, that is."

"Captain, I do not mind the action if it is necessary. Your weight will not pose a problem for me."

"No really Spock, I can do this, I can." he said and then suddenly stopped. "Hey, are you calling me fat?" he asked, looking incredulously down at Spock who was still on the floor, but had crossed his legs and had his hands placed on his knees in a general meditative position.

Bones groaned and grabbed his head with his hands before Spock could answer. "You are going to send me prematurely grey Jim, you do know that, right?"

Jim cast a sceptical eye over Bones head. "Sorry Bones, you're a bit late for that."

His CMO rolled his eyes. "Well come on then superman, show us your great talent of being able to stand up vertically then" the Doctor said leaning against one of the consoles.

Jim, who was currently kneeling on the floor, glared at Bones before grabbing onto the nearest stable object in the room. The captains chair. Someone or something was really out to get him, Jim decided. He then heaved himself, not particularly elegantly, up off from the floor.

The one thing he hadn't anticipated, in all the possible scenarios that may occur from doing so, (ranging from falling over again, too essentially staying standing) was that the chair may actually move.

Jim was able to swear in 27 different alien languages. Though it might not be a particular achievement to be proud of, he never the less found that it did come in handy when one was planet side and in the presence of a civilisation who had decided to just piss him off. You had the option of doing many stupid things out of the annoyance, choosing from kicking something really hard to telling the alien colony you were trying to establish an alliance with to get screwed- something which no Federation handbook ever suggested you do. Instead, he opted with the lesser of the many actions and chose a language which was furthest from the cultures and let loose. This way at least it was only usually and _hopefully_ Spock or Uhura, whoever happened to be with him, who flinched.

At this moment in his life when the effect of -9.8 gravity was upon him and his legs had decided to lose momentary feeling however, he decided to go with something a bit original.

"Damnit" he was just able to mutter before the chair swung to the right of him and his rubbery legs shot out from under his body, sending him falling to the left of the raised level that the chair sat upon. He landed on the grated floor; face down and with his arms and legs splayed in various different and uncomfortable directions. He groaned.

"Captain"

Another groan.

"If I may suggest it, Captain, should we go with the alternative measure of assisting you now?"

Yet another groan.

"Just pick the idiot up Spock."

He didn't even bother groaning again; Bones didn't deserve it.

"I think the Earth saying goes 'let it be on your head', Doctor" the Vulcan replied as Bones rolled his eyes and gestured toward the two of them.

"Come on, hurry up, he's going to be dead before too long" he said and mumbled under his breath. "Then maybe we can all get some peace and quiet"

Suddenly the world started moving as Jim was lifted upwards and he had to clench his eyes and mouth shut as the dormant nausea rolled through him once again. It was obvious that the hypo had only been for the pain. Somehow though, such thoughts were secondary within his mind. He could think of only one thing.

Spock.

Or more specifically...

_Spock_ carrying _him_, a fact that he knew was correct from the abnormal amount of heat that was seeping through the supporting arms and into his back which was surprisingly helping to relieve some of the pain.

_Good God and all ye Holy Saints out there, could this be any worse?_

It probably could have been, he thought. If Bones had made the first suggestion he'd most likely be sliding along the floor being pulled along by a piece of rope that was tied to some machine or something absolutely ridiculous like that. So in all truth he probably should be _thanking_ Spock. Though he would only do that, _after_ this was all over _and_ if none of the crew had happened to have a camera handy during the entire process.

He sighed as the jolting lessened and he opened his eyes slightly to see that the world had stopped moving as aggressively. Getting carried around wasn't actually that bad, he thought. Ok, it was kind of weird and all but not by far the weirdest situation he had been in before. Now the mission they had just completed-_that_ was weird.

The planet they orbited around had literally brought to life all the crews thoughts. If the guy in charge of it all, some strange hermit dude with a weird name, had actually had the initiative to asked Jim in the first place he could have told him that it would be a bad idea. The _Enterprise _wasn't just manned by a young crew, but also quite a strange one. And those different qualities Jim looked for in different and strange people really didn't help when it came to that particular planet with all their crazy thoughts literally running wild. Seriously, he swore to God if he ever saw an overlarge, obese white fluffy bunny rabbit ever again it would not know what hit it.

Since Jim would already have hit it with a phaser.

He didn't have a clue what he was going to put in the report he had to send back to the Federation.

_Ah, the report_. Jim knew there was something he was forgetting. Well, he usually tried to forget about the paper work most of the time anyway. Man, he hated all that regulation crap. It always put a dampener on a victorious mission. He liked to just celebrate about simply being alive without having to write the fact down sophisticatedly amid other seemingly pointless and useless facts. Like yes, we did use the phasers to shoot down the enemy and yes, we did have a good reason for it, and no, we didn't make that particular reason up and yes, Mr Spock also eventually decided it was a good plan which was not due to lack of others, and no, it wasn't a completely insane and endangering plan either. According to Jim anyway.

He had a habit of leaving his first officers opinions out of the report most of the time as well.

Ah, so forgetful of him.

Either way if he didn't have that report sent in time, Admiral Hoosywhatsisname would eat him alive then spit him right back out. The way things were currently going though he was getting further away from the bridge with said report writing materials and closer to almost perpetual doom and surgery.

Fascinating.... Jim mused channelling his first officer. He frowned. Actually it was likely more frustrating than fascinating but the drugs seemed to have short circuited the wires to his brain, not allowing him to channel needed emotions properly.

Another jolt and grimace later and Jim decided to take matters into his own hands. He didn't _really_ need his appendix out. Personally he was quite emotionally attached to it and kind of wanted to keep it. It would be like taking an arm off or even a leg. Man, he could hardly bear to think of such an atrocity and knew for certain that if such an action were to be performed he would not be able to cope. There would be tears...and possibly blood. Definitely blood- and not just his either. He wouldn't go without a fight.

He paused.

Did he seriously just think that?

It would be the stupid drugs again. He_ hoped_ it was drugs anyway. They always messed around with his system whenever he had to take them. It was either a physical reaction or a damn emotional one. Bones had even had him crying his eyes out in the sickbay at one point for something he can't even remember. All he knew was that he better not start having a repeat of that same action.

Really not cool.

First things first though, just as any good bank robber would need a getaway car, Jim would also need a means of transport back to the bridge.

Of course the most obvious choice was holding him right now.

This choice, however, would be the hardest to convince, he had a feeling.

Maybe the half Vulcan was truly an adventurer at heart and wouldn't mind trying to make a break for it in the opposite direction to which they were going. There was always a possibility no matter how thin. He raised his hand and hit Spock's shoulder. In response, black eyes snapped to his and stared curiously down at him. Jim grinned.

The corner of Spock's lip twitched upwards in retort. "Was there a primary intention behind your action Captain?" he asked adjusting Jim's weight in his hands as he did.

Jim rolled his eyes. "As _awesome_ as it is to be carried away into the sunset by you Spock, I was thinking we could do something different to the norm."

"Despite this being hardly normal Jim, I must confess my ignorance. Your current train of thought presently eludes me. Please explain what you mean by 'different'."

The corner of Jim's mouth curled into a conspiratorial smile and he gestured to Spock to come closer. The dark eyes sparked with curiosity and a head was tilted closer to Jim's in response. Well, at least part of him was interested.

"I was thinking that we could make a run for it."

It was truly amazing how a Vulcan's expression could take such an abrupt turn so quickly. Really. It must be genetic; a sub-effect from their incredibly fast reflexes. Or it was just something Spock was able to do. Either way, the momentary spark in his first officer's eyes distinguished and they once again looked at him blandly, all within a nanosecond.

"How do you suppose to achieve such a thing, Jim, when you are close to being incapacitated and quite severely drugged?" Spock asked, looking like he was having to explain the process of counting to a statistician.

"You see Spock, that's your problem, you're always with the negatives."

"If by negative you mean that I have an aversion for highly endangering or completely unnecessary actions, then yes," Spock said "I am as you say, _negative_."

Jim huffed and remained silent. The two of them remained as so until...

"Captain , are you _pouting_?"

"Shut up", Jim muttered and Spock's lip's twitched.

Ah, well, screw the report then, he really couldn't be bothered.

"Hey, you two, I know you're both wrapped up in your own little world back there but if that appendix bursts its goodnight Jimmy." Bones said as he turned around and stopped, waiting for Spock, who had slowed his progress while talking to Jim, to catch up.

"Don't call me Jimmy, Bones" Jim rebuked, folding his arms as they drew alongside the doctor and continued to walk. "It makes me feel like I'm five years old."

Bones scoffed "Jim, I hate to break it to you, but you _look _five years old being carried around like that. All I can hope is that there are feeds of this on the security cameras later on," he said speculatively, casting a glance around before looking back at Jim who was glaring at him. "Aw, don't look like that Jimmy," he said, "You're ruining the cute factor."

Jim scoffed. "Ok Bones, let's get something straight here. I can do awesome, dashing and ruggedly handsome," he said as Bones snorted and Spock's eyebrows rose. "But I defiantly _cannot_ do _cute."_

Bones looked down at Jim, hands on his hips. "You know you might actually have been able to convince me of that," he said. "That is of course if I _hadn't_ already had the pleasure of sitting down with your mother to look through all those nice baby photos of yours," he mocked. "Man, you can do cute alright."

"_Bones!"_

"Okay, jeez, well, whatever you say, _Jimmy,_" he said as the lift in front of Jim arrived. There would only be room for him and Spock, he noticed. Bones would have to take the next one. He couldn't resist the chance.

"I'm glad we sorted that out then, _Lenny," _Jim replied, and grinned evilly as Spock stepped inside the lift and pressed the command for the door, letting them shut on Bones' very evident glare.

"You know this could actually catch on," he said to himself as Spock pressed in the deck number. He looked up at his first officer who once again gazed inscrutably down at him and radiated such a serene and complete picture of _'don't even think about'_ that Jim instantly shut his mouth which he had opened and rolled his eyes instead.

"Or not," he muttered as the lift began to rise and beams of light flashed through the column as the different levels passed by.

* * *

_Ok, yeah, I know that the Captain's chair does actually spin but lets say for properities sake that it doesn't do so very well eh?_

_Ciao!_


	2. Going Down

_He was doing it again....._

Jim mentally slapped himself in exasperation, forcing his gaze away from the subject of his thoughts and across to the opposite wall instead. He had a feeling that this was going to turn into a very bad past time if he didn't stop himself soon or sought some serious help. It was just like star gazing. You lose yourself in the view, get completely sucked in and just when you think you've seen it all, suddenly it changes and the entire process starts all over again. It was addictive and mesmerizing, almost enigmatic...

.....and also _really_ hypnotic.

His eyes travelled unbidden back up again and he stared.

Yes, there was _definitely_ something hypnotic about the way that the pulsing lights from inside the turbo lift reflected off from the green tinged skin of his first officer, casting shadows along the planes and lines of his face, creating a diametrically opposite concoction of harsh and soft contours and dark and light moving shapes.

Screw stargazing, he thought, try the all new and improved_ spock-_gazing_._

Jim blinked. Hmm...you could probably turn that into some sort of a sport, he mused. It may actually catch on. Even better than that, it could have the potential to be an _extreme_ sport if you happened to catch Spock on a bad day. The contract pertaining to any injuries experienced while performing such an activity would have to be pretty tight on his behalf though because seriously, he'd seen Spock on a bad day and man, it was not pretty.

Jim chewed slightly on his lip, a bad habit, as he dredged up the memories of many previous encounters of when Spock seemed to be experiencing a bad case of PMS or something just as horrific. Yeah, there was definitel_y_ nothing pretty about being strangled on top of a console, having random soup trays thrown at him, getting those insanely annoying nerve pinches which made him wake up with stabbing headaches or just receiving the famous death-glare at a point when Jim had decreed that it was annual annoy Spock Day.

Something he wasn't repeating again.

He continued to look at his first officer, watching the way his eyes flicked around the small confines of the lift. He watched how his eyebrows slowly lowered casting slight shadows below them and how these same eyes then followed by his entire head quickly turned in his direction and looked at him questionably.

Jim suddenly became much more interested in the white wall in front of him as his eyes swiftly flicked down, determined not to be caught in the act of staring. He swallowed uncomfortably and waited as the dark gaze swept his face, trying to seemingly and casually examine the lift's pristine features in the process. Hopefully his first officer would just lose interest in his strange behaviour or finally realise just how insane Jim actually was and accept it with good grace. Unless of course he had already. That definitely was a grand possibility. It _wasn't_ at all like he gawked at the guy half the time, he thought sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He may actually have to get himself checked out by Bones when all of this was over because pretty much checking out his first officer on the bridge would seriously _not _do. Now that he thought about it though, you could hardly call it 'checking out' because it wasn't exactly obvious.

Jim always went obvious when it came to things like that. It seemed to get you much further than just sneaking around the process. When it came to making a move he was anything but...

He stopped suddenly, tilting his head and frowning slightly. The tingling sensation that he always got when he was being watched was dissipating. It was a weird feeling, kind of like a six sense which gave him a really heightened awareness of the things around him. He sure wasn't about to complain about it anytime soon though, despite its strange qualities. That shivering consciousness had saved his ass way to many times for it to be problem. He sighed in relief and his expression cleared as it completely disappeared. Spock had finally dismissed his behaviour. Thank God. He closed his eyes briefly before opening them to once again look at the wall. Man, he really needed to stop this. It wasn't healthy. He would not look up again until they reached the sickbay, he thought decisively.

He would _not _look back up again.

He _would_ not look back up again.....

He would.....oh _damn it_...

He looked back up again.

So much for the strong willed side of his character. That just got completely steam-rolled by... ah..._another_ part of him. He was quite a multi layered kind of guy, really. Like a puzzle wrapped inside an enigma, wrapped inside a tacho and then covered in a _whole_ lot of bubble wrap.

The stuff that popped...hmmm...good times that 10th birthday party, Jim thought and he smiled.

He was instantly pulled back to his previous thoughts as the flashing florescent light once again changed the overall appearance of Spock's countenance, bringing out more of the green within his skin. Hmmm...

...maybe he could stick him on a pedestal and he could be the Enterprise's star attraction? People could pay money to see him, Jim mused. Good money. That way he could use the cash to upgrade some of the security features himself that the bloody admirals of Starfleet had yet to allow him to do. Now that he actually thought about it, Spock could be any number of things; a chair, a pack horse, a sport, a monument.

Wow.

He really was multitalented and not just a genius.

He grinned. Yep, that was him and Spock. The multilayered, multitalented, slightly dysfunctional tag team, with two of their legs tied together, running the egg race of life.

With broken spoons.

Not that he was calling the Enterprise or her crew broken or anything.... just that a whole lot of shit always seemed to got thrown at them...

Jim didn't realise that the Vulcan in question was once again looking down at him until it was too late and his own golden eyes were caught by the irrefutable black ones.

Crap.

His mind whirled. After his last pathetic attempt at trying to speak his way out of a similar scenario he decided to remain silent and instead hope for the best. He cleared his throat awkwardly as the dark eyes bore into his own, trying to not look too much like a petrified cat that was caught in the headlights of a car.

They both continued to stare at each other with only the occasional pulse of the lifts' hydrocarbon suspension unit breaking the stillness with its deep toned hum.

Just as the silence was beginning to stretch against its comfortable restraints one of Spock's eyebrows suddenly rose, as he looked down at him inscrutably. Jim, in keeping with his 'no-talking' stigma responded by raising two of his own in a silent question and response. He sure wasn't going to try just the one out. Watching himself trying to achieve it in the mirror of his quarters freaked him out about as much as base jumping from the _Enterprise_ during the Nero incident. There were innocent people aboard the ship who he wasn't about scar for life. Maybe after a little more practise and he could actually start to think about trying it out in public. Though who knows, maybe he would never be able to do it. It was probably a hereditary thing, something one of Spock's parents was able to do and he just got lucky when it came to the gene pool. You probably had to have a well defined eyebrow muscle or something.

Jim really liked to use inheritance as a scapegoat. It worked more often than one would expect it to. There was also an added bonus of the grim satisfaction you received if you weren't exactly on good terms with your parents either.

If in doubt...blame it on genetics, he thought wryly.

Two black eyebrows had lowered in an assessing manner as he thought, while the head which they were situated upon had tilted sideways and the eyes become narrower. Jim became more noticeable of this expression as his own thoughts quieted down. He inspected the face before him, seeing the tell tale signs of confusion in the downward tilt of the corner of Spock's lips accompanied by a slight squinting of the eyes.

Jim could understand why Spock would probably be, if anything _slightly_ puzzled. He was really anything _but_ non-verbal, unless the situation demanded it beyond all else. He liked making his opinions known, that was all. The thing that Spock didn't realise was that this situation _did_ require it however. On pain of the reality of actually being tongue tied. For the Vulcan it would be like trying to find out what 'x' was in an equation without the actual equation. Of course a correct conclusion couldn't be drawn if relevant and needed information was omitted from the problem.

Jim hadn't realised that as he was thinking his own eyebrows had lowered in concentration. The Captain and First Officer now contemplated each other, one gaze assessing and one absorbed, as he lost himself in his random stream of consciousness.

Jeez, what was this?

An Eyebrow War?

Jim laughed out loud as that wayward thought broke into his mind but quickly muted his expression as Spock's eyebrows flew upwards and his eyes widened, an expression that looked so confronted and perplexed that Jim instantly started laughing again and was unable to reign himself in.

He didn't realise that his legs were slipping from Spock's arms until he was falling to the right, rolling out of the warm supporting arms and with a yelp, hitting the ground.

Wow, he thought, as he lay back-down on the floor, that really did hurt like a bitch when Spock didn't happen to catch him. He winced. The lift floor was probably even worse than the grate on the bridge as there was no suspension or give in it at all. He really wasn't having a good day where gravity was concerned. He should just permanently attach himself to the floor or something. He groaned, closing his eyes, letting his head fall down.

"God damn mother-"

"Captain?"

The single word broke through Jim's stream of incomplete profanities and he opened his eyes, looking up....and up...and up...and...

"You're really tall...do ya know that?"

Spock seemed to sigh at this. "Yes, Captain, I am aware of my own height," he said and then looked contemplative, his lip twitching upward slightly. "Just as I am aware of my eyes also."

Oh _damn_, Jim thought, averting his own eyes and looking downwards. Yep, if that wasn't an obvious attempt at telling him that he was being completely obvious about looking at him all the time, then he was an Andorian.

Or just completely stupid...it wouldn't surprise him.

Keeping his eyes carefully away from his first officers, he moved his arms beneath him and heaved himself up onto his elbows. His limbs felt heavy, an indicator that the drugs that Bones had given him were still working effectively. These 23rd century medicines were amazing, he thought, in danger of sounding like a broken record player stuck on repeat. An outstretched pale hand suddenly appeared in his view disrupting his stream of thought and he jerked back, startled. He looked up at Spock's serene face and then back down at the hand.

An open invitation.

He complimented the gesture for a moment longer, before lifting a hand of his own and grasping the given one, smiling slightly. He felt an unexpected tug on his arm and suddenly he was pulled to his feet. Disoriented at the extremely quick movement, he stumbled forward and the grip on his hand tightened as he did so, steadying him. He felt a warm pressure upon his opposite shoulder as the world spun violently for a second, all the blood rushing from his head. Whoa, he thought and grimaced. Vertigo. He grabbed onto the arm holding his shoulder, looking at the floor as he tried to ground himself, using Spock as a centring point.

The action was ironic, to say the least. He already considered his first officer like an eye of a storm. The calm amidst the chaos. A method to a madness, where Jim was _easily_ the most craziest and unrelenting madness anybody had ever seen. He was a warning _'Captain' _just before Jim decided to do something stupid and a risen eyebrow that held back the verbal '_I told you so' _that Jim was pretty sure that he had earned five times over.

Somehow the action still seemed to scream the words blatantly though.

But Jim appreciated him doing it anyway.

The dizziness was gradually dissipating. Breathing slowly he let go of Spock's arm which in turn released his shoulder and then his hand as Jim pulled his own back. He stepped backwards, letting the world revolve for a second at the movement. After the floor seemed to be remaining where it should be, he looked up.

"Thanks," he said, managing a grin and breathing out in a sigh.

Spock seemed to be examining him.

"You do not seem to be having much luck today Captain, in regard to your well being", he stated, moving to stand against the opposite wall of the lift but his gaze still assessing.

Jim was about to give him an adamant _'tell me about it'_, accompanied by an effective roll of the eyes but Spock cut him off.

"How you are feeling currently?" he asked abruptly and suddenly.

Jim stopped, surprised at the question. "Ah, fine..." he stammered. "....great actually."

"Indeed?"

"Yeah, I think the hypo must still be working cause I feel as fit as a fiddle." he said, borrowing one of his mothers sayings and grinning despite himself.

Yeah...okay. Jim _really_ didn't like it when Spock looked at him like he was a new form of specimen he had just discovered on a new and far away planet. It wasn't comforting in the least. He felt like he was about to be whipped away to a laboratory and dissected by a crazy scientist.

A crazy first officer scientist.

With pointy scalpels.

_Sharp, _pointy scalpels.

He shuddered.

"What?" he asked Spock trying to not squirm under the scrutiny, as the Vulcan continued to look at him, interest in his eyes.

"Captain, the hypo should have become ineffective over fifteen minutes ago."

Jim blinked.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Huh. That's weird."

No wonder he could actually produce legible thought.

"My sentiments exactly Jim." Spock said moving closer to him. "If Doctor McCoy's hypothesis of appendicitis is correct then you should currently be in immense pain and under the influence of extreme nausea such as before," he said. "And yet...." he trailed off gesturing at Jim.

"I'm as fit as a fiddle?" Jim asked, grinning again.

"Apparently," he said, his shoulders moving upwards slightly to what appeared to Jim as a shrug." "Despite, of course, the obvious discrepancies in that sentence."

Jim looked at him confused.

"How an old earth folk instrument can be in a sense '_fit'_ is quite beyond me, Captain."

He laughed and he saw Spock's lips twitch in response.

"You know what is even stranger though?" Jim asked, as he calmed his amusement and glanced around at the lift. It was something that he had caught onto the moment he was able to stand upright. The lift was moving way to slow for it to be working properly. With optimum power and with no one else requesting the use the lift, one of the machines could get a person to where they wanted to be in seconds.

"I do not."

Jim looked at Spock, who was in turn looking at him fascinatingly. He was actually quite surprised that his first officer hadn't picked up on it.

Then again, Spock _did_ have to deal with him beforehand.

"We should also have been at the sickbay at least fifteen minutes ago as well."

Spock instantly straightened at his words, a slight frown replacing his slight smile as his somewhat casual demeanour fell aside and the more professional appeared.

"Weird huh?"

"Undeniably," Spock agreed, looking if anything, annoyed at himself. "I am amazed I did not notice such a fact sooner."

"Don't beat yourself up about it Spock. It's okay. You _were_ having to cooperate with me being an idiot and all." Jim said reassuringly patting the Vulcan's shoulder.

Spock didn't answer. He was looking intently down at the floor and then at the ceiling as his gaze travelled upwards. He seemed to be listening to something as he tilted his head to the side.

"Spock?"Jim asked, letting his hand fall to his side.

"You are correct in determining that we are moving too slow" he said in reply, turning towards him. "The pulses of the canons within the hydro fixtures are slower than should be normal."

"Right....." Jim said drawing the word out as he processed what Spock had told him. He then grinned. "Well, that's easier enough to fix!"

He all but bounded over to a silver panel, situated near the command button for the doors as Spock's eyebrows rose.

"I did not realise that we had access to the correct equipment to fix such a problem."

Jim stopped. "Well we don't..._exactly._" The eyebrows lowered. "But being Captain does give you quite a few perks when it comes to manually hacking into the system," he said and threw a grin over his shoulder at the somewhat bemused Spock.

He looked back at the impenetrable titanium casing which housed most of the lifts circuitry.

Ah, well there was his first problem.

"Hey Spock," he asked turning around, all but running into the Vulcan who had moved to see what Jim was doing.

And if it were possibly life threatening.

"Yes Captain?"

Jim cleared his throat, moving to the side. "Do you think you can get this off?" he asked, gesturing toward the metal. Spock looked as the titanium and then leaned down. Jim let him examine the casing, pale hands moving along the slight creases that it made in the wall where it was inserted, allowing his own eyes to wander over those same features.

And then over the same hands.

The very nice, long and slender hands.

_Son of a-_

"With adequate time I should be able to remove the screws and be able to open it," Spock said, breaking into Jim's mental reprimand. He dropped his hands, just as Jim pulled his eyes from them, examining the metal casing once more before turning towards him. "Though they are tight they would not be completely impossible to move."

Jim stared at him dumbly and wondered what biological force seemed to always make Vulcan's so convoluted.

"I was just thinking more along the lines of rip...tear...you know," he said moving his hands in similar actions and then shrugging indifferently as Spock stared at him.

The Vulcan looked at the metal plate and then back at Jim, who shrugged again. He frowned, before placing his hands on the small metallic edge...

.....and pulling.

There was an abrupt screech as the plating seemed to just lift off with no bother, this idea in opposition with the amount of noise such an action made and the sparking it caused as some of the cords inside the box were torn. Jim ducked as a few sparks sprang in his direction, a few still catching on the right side of his face, burning him. He scrubbed at them trying to diffuse the sparks and the many small burns on his cheek and neck.

The lift suddenly vibrated to a halt, going motionless, as did the occupants of it. Spock stood silently at his side, hands still grasping the titanium block. They both looked at the tangle of wires and circuits in front of them. Spock spoke first breaking the silence.

"Captain?" he asked handing the metal plate to him without averting his gaze.

"Yes?" Jim answered, with something of a great effort, still looking ahead and accepting the plate.

"I believe we have stopped."

Jim sighed. "That seems to be the case Mr Spock."

"Was such an action meant to occur?"

"Yes...."

He saw an eyebrow being raised from the corner of his eye.

".....okay no. Not exactly."

"Very well. Do you currently know your next course of action, Sir?"

" It's coming to me..."

Another eyebrow.

"...slowly."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"I'd somehow rather you didn't Mr Spock."

"A wise choice Captain."

"Yes....that's what I thought....."

They remained looking inside the circuit box until Jim rolled his eyes and threw the now useless piece of metal over his shoulder. "Okay enough with formalities," he said as the plate hit the wall and fell to the floor, making Spock wince at the resounding noise. "It's time to get this machine going strong again. Come on. "

He gave Spock a gentle shove with his shoulder and the Vulcan moved to the right allowing Jim to lean over and look more comfortably into the box. He was presented with a dark concave of different coloured wires that winded and wrapped around each other and eventually disappeared into the darkness.

It was, if anything, a gigantic mess.

And completely un-hackable unless you knew what each coloured wire signified.

"Jeez" Jim said, surprised, trying to look deeper inside. The state of it didn't get any better the further in you got it seemed. "Isn't it someone's job to make sure stuff doesn't get like this?" he asked Spock with raised eyebrows.

"Surprisingly no, Captain" Spock said, looking with just a hint of disapproval at the wires. "When lifts are put into the ship it is presumed that no work will need to be done on the actual machine itself as they can be completely controlled, fixed and monitored through engineering."

That in itself sounded stupid to Jim. Spock continued.

"Therefore, the titanium sheeting is put into place with the wiring inside and more than likely this," he gestured toward the wires, "would never be seen."

Jim scoffed remembering why he _really_ didn't like design planners. They had more than likely never seen a starship, let alone been on one. All their ideas worked within their own mind but failed pitifully in the real world.

He picked up a white wire and looked at it closely. If he could remember rightly, the white wire was what linked the device to the main control sector. They would definitely need that to get this baby moving. He dropped it, looking at the wires, quickly putting colours with purposes within his mind. A hand came into view just as he was picking up a yellow wire and stole it from his hand. He frowned at his empty hand before looking around for the wire thief.

"Spock?"

His first officer was knelt in front of the opening looking intently at the wires, his eyes flicking back and forth across the jumbled mess. He dropped the yellow before picking up the white again, eyebrows lowered in concentration.

Obviously he didn't trust Jim not to nearly blow them up this time. Hmm...now that he thought about it there was actually a self destruct combination between two different coloured wires. He just couldn't remember _which_ two it was exactly.

Probably not a good thing to forget.

"It needs to go with the red." Jim stated, picking up a thinner wire covered in a deep burgundy silicon material.

Spock looked at him sceptically, eyebrows raised, before looking down again.

Okay, not exactly the most trusting expression Jim could have hoped for.

"Seriously Spock, give me a bit of credit. I know what I'm talking about" he said, standing up and leaning against the wall. "I was the one who got to select the particular colours for the wires when the Enterprise had that upgrade a few months back. It was all part of a plan that the Captain could manually override the system if need be."

His first officer didn't look up.

"_Spock_..._"_

Spock's hands stilled at Jim's somewhat impatient tone and the Vulcan looked up at him.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, trying to look hurt. He saw Spock inhale through his nose and look back at the wires. He then turned to examine Jim's face, until finally looking at the wires again. He visibly sighed before picking the red coated wire up.

Jim grinned and playfully punched Spock's shoulder. "See, I knew you loved me," he joked as Spock connected the red and white wires. The lift started to move downwards, much quicker than before and Jim grinned triumphantly.

"See, I'm not a complete idi-"

The lift jolted downward cutting him off as the machine suddenly fell a few feet before stopping again. He regained his balance as Spock did so his own, before standing back up. They looked at each other a silent question passing between them.

And then the bottom of the lift dropped out from under their feet.

Or that's what it felt like to Jim anyway.

More correctly, he realised, the suspension units had failed.

Crap.

Before either could realise, the lift was plummeting downward at an uncontrollable speed. Both Jim and Spock slammed back to the floor as gravity caught up with them, sending them to their knees as their legs buckled and lost the fight to stay upright. He instinctively grabbed hold of Spock's arm as the Vulcan grasped hold of his shoulder.

"Oh god" Jim groaned, his knees throbbing as the lift seemed to increase in speed. He looked at Spock.

"We can't catch a fucking break, can we?" he all but shouted at him over the increasingly loud whirl of the lift as it plunged through the shaft. No way was he going to die in a fucking lift. That was so screwed he didn't even consider the possibility.

James T. Kirk- defender of Earth, conqueror of Nero, survivor of mass genocide, youngest captain in Starfleet history and a genius when he wanted to be.

James T. Kirk...

...squashed by a lift.

Nope, _not_ going to happen.

He pulled his body toward the open panel which was now sparking so much it was like New Year's with fireworks, dragging Spock along behind him. He grabbed the white and red wires that Spock had connected, ignoring a searing burn that travelled up his hand and yanked them apart. He felt a hand pull his shirt back and he fell into warm arms just as the panel in front of him blew apart.

A violent shuddering jolt shook the lift sidewards as it slowed considerably but continued to hurl downwards still throwing the occupants flying.

Jim flew from Spock's arms and hit the opposite wall, his head and back cracking sickeningly against the hard surface, before he slid quickly down to a sitting position on the floor just as Spock himself lost his balance and was thrown in much of the same direction. Jim put his hand up to ward of the possibly crushing weight of his first officer as Spock himself concurrently reached up to support himself against the wall above Jim's head. There was a resounding and painful thud as the lift slammed into what he could only presume was the bottom deck, the doors whipping opening as the machine crashed to a halt, shuddering as one of the many other panels sparked daringly and the whirling sputtered out.

"Bloody hell" Jim gasped, reaching up to hold onto his throbbing head with one hand as the other spread against the blue clad chest of the Vulcan leaning over him. He could already feel a bump forming beneath his hair and he didn't doubt that a headache would soon follow.

Spock's shoulders slumped as he breathed deeply. He let his head fall between his outstretched arms, eyes closed, seeming to give up on maintaining the nonchalant facade he always wore, as he supported his weight above Jim. Neither bothered to move. They didn't know what else could happen but Jim seriously didn't think it could get much worse than being shaken around like you were in a blender. A tingling sensation was making its way through his back and shoulders and he shuddered trying to shake it off.

And then stopped horrified.

His head came up at the same time that Spock's did, their eyes catching and widening simultaneously, before they both together turned slowly to their left.

Scotty, plus half of the entire engineering crew, looked on, staring at the wreckage of the lift and the scene inside it. Most of them were gaping none the less but Jim could go so far as to say that some of them even looked horror-struck. He felt a warm liquid trickle down the side of his face and he moved his hand across it, trying to wipe whatever it was away.

His hand came away red and he stared at the blood staining his fingers.

"Spock..." he said looking up at his battered first officer from the floor. He could already see a faint green bruise blossoming on his cheek as well as numerous burns just like his scattered across the opposite cheek. Spock looked questionably down at him and Jim swallowed, smiling shakily.

"...let's take the stairs next time."

* * *

_Oh, please forgive me for the wait but I really like having a week for each chapter as it means that I can really look over my writing and correct anything I think needs to be changed._

_Ignore my sorry attempt at techno babble as I already know it's horrific. _

_I'm also sorry for the occasional swearing if it bothered you- I just thought Jim should vent himself before he exploded :)_

_Ciao!_


End file.
